


But For Now We Are Young

by safeandwarm



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, First Kiss, Genderswap, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safeandwarm/pseuds/safeandwarm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're sitting on Walt's back porch on a hot, July day. Ray is mid-rant, her arms gesturing widely, those stupid Elvis sunglasses slipping down her nose, her black hair pulled up in a ponytail, a single drop of sweat sliding from her hairline down the back of her neck. And it's a tangible thing, a pressure in Walt's chest. The words come out before she can stop herself. “I love you.” </p><p>or </p><p>A genderswap high school/college AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	But For Now We Are Young

**Author's Note:**

> I liked one of those posts on Tumblr where it gives you a list of words and you're supposed to write a drabble for each, and this is what it turned into.

**Introduction**

Three weeks after Ray moves to Taylorstown from wherever in Missouri she's from, in the middle of English class, she leans forward in her desk and whispers, “Hey. Hey. You're Walt, right? Kinda weird for a girl to be named Walt.”

“Shhh,” Walt whispers back, even though she knows it won't make a difference. Ray hadn't even been in Virginia a month and she'd already been in the principal's office more times than Walt had ever been in all her years in school.

“Are you a lesbian? Everyone says you're a lesbian,” Ray says, barely taking a breath. “And if you are, I think we should have sex, because a few days ago this guy ate me out and it sucked balls. I'm not sure if it was him or me, and I hear lesbians are the best at oral sex, so...do me a solid?”

Walt tucks a strand of her short sandy blonde hair behind her ear. Well, it was certainly a different approach to find out if she was gay than everyone else took. “Do you a solid?”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“No. Shut up.”

“Pretty please with me on top?”

“No.”

“You wanted to be on top? That's cool too.”

Thankfully, Mrs. Doyle interrupts. “Ms. Person, since you seem so chatty today why don't you tell us your opinions on Lady Macbeth?” She really should have known better than to give Ray a public platform to air her ideas.

“I love that crazy bitch, and let me tell you why...”

 

 

**Love**

It's stupid, the way it happens.

They're sitting on Walt's back porch on a hot, July day. Ray is mid-rant, her arms gesturing widely, those stupid Elvis sunglasses slipping down her nose, her black hair pulled up in a ponytail, a single drop of sweat sliding from her hairline down the back of her neck. And it's a tangible thing, a pressure in Walt's chest. The words come out before she can stop herself. “I love you.”

Ray falters for a millisecond, eyes darting to Walt, before she finishes up her sentence. It's something about Obama's drone policy or professional baseball; Walt can't remember. They've been together for months, known each other for a year, and Ray talks with equal fervor about the mundane as she does about the sacred. The only time Walt has heard Ray choose her words carefully is when she told Walt about her father's abuse and why she and her mom had moved so far away.

“I love you too, you dumb hick.”

 

**Light**

Walt comes into their bedroom of the little apartment they're renting during college. She's been up all night writing and re-writing a paper for her Econ class, and the sun is starting to glow that soft, warm yellow of dawn through the little window by the bed, making wavy window blind-shaped patterns against Ray's bare back and shoulders. Walt just looks.

 

**Dark**

It's November of their junior year of high school, and it's way too cold to be sitting outside on Walt's porch in the middle of the night waiting for some meteor shower that Ray assures her is going to be spectacular. Walt went along with it, like every other time that Ray promised that something would be awesome, because she was stupidly in like with her best friend—her best friend who jokingly suggests they have sex on a bi-weekly basis. Walt is a fucking masochist.

They're sharing an old gray comforter, and Walt feels chunky because of her triple layers, but it would have been even worse if she hadn't given Ray her soccer hoodie. Ray had shown up in a t-shirt, like she didn't know it was winter. Ray is warm against her side, the one spot of heat in the otherwise freezing cold. And Walt's stupid brain turns that into a metaphor for her life. Being gay in the Bible Belt sucks. Being gay in a small town sucks. Having a crush on your best friend fucking sucks.

“Hey Walt?”

“Yeah?”

Ray fidgets beneath the blanket and Walt only knows because they're pressed so closely together. “I...You're totally not going to believe me after all the times I joked about it, but I want to kiss you and have sex with you in a very much yes homo way. And not just because you're the only other queer person in this god-forsaken town but because you're like the one good thing in my life. You're like sunshine and pot brownies and orgasms all rolled into one, and when you smile, it physically hurts me. And I know you don't feel the same and that I'm probably going to lose my best friend because of this, but I just had to say it, so go ahead and rip my heart out. It's yours anyway.”

Walt can't breathe. She would be half-sure she just hallucinated the whole thing, except that Ray is still fidgeting and decidedly not looking at her. She takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “That was almost romantic, Ray, if a little morbid towards the end.”

“Don't play with me,” Ray replies, looking angry. Before Walt can say that she's not playing, Ray says, “I like you.”

Walt smiles wide. “I like you too, you dumb hick.”

Ray startles, looking as disbelieving at this as Walt had been. “I'm going to kiss you now, holmes, so if you're just joking, I'm going to be so fucking pissed.”

Walt barely has time to whisper “not joking,” before Ray's lips are on hers.

 

**Heaven**

“Why do you still go to church? Don't they frown upon the gays?” Ray says from where she's flopped out on Walt's bed, staring at Walt as she considers her dress slacks and her tan skirt.

“I still believe in Jesus, Ray. I still want to go to Heaven.”

“You think I'll get into Heaven?”

Walt smiles wide. “Oh, I don't know. You drink, smoke, curse, and have lots of sex.”

“You do all those things too,” Ray says in mock offense, hand clutching her chest. “We do all those things together. If I'm going to Hell then so are you.”

 

**Innocence**

“You're a virgin?”

“It's not like Taylorstown is crawling with lesbians just dying to get into my pants, Ray. It's not a big deal. It's just sex. It's just an experience. I've never flown in an airplane or driven a stick shift either.” Ray put her arm around Walt and drew her across the bench seat of her pick-up truck, until their sides were flush together.

“I know that virginity is a social construct invented by men who think their penis is so damn special, babe. That's not what I was getting at.”

“What are you getting at then?”

Ray pauses, like she's parsing out the words. “I'm going to sound like a complete sap, but I don't want your first time to be in my truck like you're a one night stand or something. You...I want to make it good for you, like so fucking good, holmes. Like candles and roses and fucking Al Green playing.” Ray turns in her seat, a hand reaching up to angle Walt's face toward hers. “Let me make it good for you?” And Walt can only nod.

 

**Driven**

By the end of sophomore year, even though she had only been in Taylorstown for a few months, she is already slated to be the next captain of the debate team and to lead the quiz bowl team next year. She may talk all through class and seem to give no effort, but Ray is smart. She's so stupidly smart.

 

**Insanity**

“I have to finish this Stats project tonight, and you are driving me fucking crazy. Go to the park or the movies or something for a few hours, or I'm going to fucking lose it, and we'll end up on that Snapped show that you like so much and your Momma will be on saying that I was such a nice girl and of course you drove me to homicide.”

 

**Silence**

Ray never really grows out of the talking just to talk phase, but the longer they're together, the more silences they have, just sitting together and enjoying one another without the need to fill the quiet with trivial words.

 

**Questioning**

“Saying I'm bisexual is like saying I'm a communist. I might honestly be—and, seriously, l would be the best communist out there, like Stalin-levels of awesome communism—but no one is going to take me seriously. It's a bullshit word with bullshit connotations, and I'm not even sure it's the right word for me anyways. I like guys. And sometimes I like girls. I think.” Ray pauses for a second, her Twizzler still hanging limply from her mouth. “We should have sex just so I can be sure.”

“No, Ray, we've been over this.”

“You're totally my BFFF, but you won't go down on me? That's hurtful; I'd eat the fuck out of your pussy.”

“And yet you still don't know if you're bi or not?”

“I'm a complex creature, Hasser. I don't like to be pigeonholed.”

“And I'm not going to have sex with you just because you're questioning your sexuality. Figure it out like a normal person. Look up half-naked pictures of Scarlett Johansson.”

 

**Blood**

It's stupid—too many all-nighters blurring together until she's so dizzy and slips in the shower, cracking her skull open. There's so much blood even though it doesn't even hurt that bad. Ray freaks. She calls 911. She calls Walt's momma. She calls her own mom. She clutches Walt's hand in the back of the ambulance so tightly that Walt feels like the circulation is cut off, but she doesn't let go because she can tell how scared Ray is. It doesn't matter that every paramedic has said she'll be fine. Ray won't believe it.

Even after the staples and getting her prescription filled, Ray still hovers. Walt gets tired of it and drags her into bed and does her best impression of a kid with their favorite teddy bear. It takes a long time for the tension to drain from Ray's shoulders and spine. Eventually she whispers, “I was so scared. Don't do that again. Don't scare me like that.”

“I'm fine, Ray. I'm here. I'm okay.”

“I can't lose you,” Ray says it like a confession, like an accusation.

**Rainbow**

“This is really gay, holmes.”

“It's Pride. The whole point is that it's gay. Shut up and hold my hand.”

 

**Gray**

Ray's dad dies in February of their senior year of high school, and Ray reacts to the news by getting drunk on her mom's peach schnapps and walking barefoot the three miles to Walt's house. She has the foresight not to knock on the front door, but not enough sense not to throw rocks at Walt's second story window and knock out the glass. She manages to wake up Walt, but also the whole house.

Walt's momma freaks smooth out, yelling and hollering, while Ray makes herself smaller and smaller in her dining room chair, until Ray says, “He's dead.”

Walt kneels in front of Ray, holding her hands. “What do you need? Baby, what can I do?”

“I'll make up the couch,” Walt's mom says, putting her hand on Walt's shoulder. Her momma has been great with the whole liking girls thing, and she even normally likes Ray, but she still doesn't endorse sleepovers.

Ray is quiet, so very, very quiet, and when she finally does speak her voice is soft-spoken but tinged in pain. “I hate that fucker. I'm not going to mourn him. I hate him.” Walt's hands tighten around Ray's. “I hate him.” Her voice breaks.

And Walt feels lost. Her dad died when she was five, and all of her memories have blurred edges and a surreal quality. She remembers him buying her a giant pixie stix after her first t-ball game and them riding on the ferris wheel together at the county fair. She remembers that he used to say “good night princess” when he tucked her in at night. Walt remembers that her dad loved her and that she loved him.

Ray's dad wasn't like that. Ray's dad was a mean drunk who floated in and out of her life whenever it suited him. She'd seen him hit her mom more times than she could count, and her mom always took it, always invited him back into their home, until January of Ray's sophomore year when he hit Ray. They'd packed up the house while her dad was sleeping and drove all night, as far as they could, and somehow wound up in Virginia.

Walt takes Ray by the hands and leads her to the couch, promising her mom that they won't be up too late. They sit close, each grabbing the other tight, t-shirts bunched in clenched fists, a heavy old black blanket that has long since faded to murky gray covering them. Sometime between breaths, they fall asleep.

 

**Cookies**

Ray is a stress baker. Before a big test or around Father's Day or on a random Thursday, Ray will make several dozen cornflake cookies and bring half of those to Walt, because she knows those are Walt's favorite.

 

**Vacation**

They go to Harry Potter World for Ray's twenty-second birthday and they drink so much butter beer that Walt thinks she's going to puke, but when Ray begs for another cup, just one more, before they head back to the hotel, Walt gives in.

 

**Cat**

They acquire a cat at some point. As far as Walt can tell, it just appeared in their apartment one day and neither of them kick it out. For the longest time, Walt thinks that Ray let in a stray, because Ray tries to act like she's so tough, but she bawls at the depressing pet abuse commercials on TV every single time they come on.

Ray would totally let a stray in and then not bring it up until Walt fell in love with the cat, but apparently that's not what happened. Ray insists up and down that she thought Walt had adopted it and she wasn't going to say anything. By this point, Cherry Bomb's been with them for a month and neither has it in their heart to get rid of her, so they just keep her.

Ray buys her a tiny spiked collar and swishy toy and five other toys, and she starts sleeping on their bed if one of them forgets to close the bedroom door all the way. It's like a little family, and it makes Walt realize how much she wants this for good, forever. She loves Ray, and she wants to marry her, but it's still illegal in Virginia.

And it makes her so angry. All she wants to do is marry the girl she's been in love with since high school and who loves her back. She doesn't want to have to drive to a different city or state. She just wants to marry her, for fucks sake. She wants her family and her friends to all be there and to wear a white dress, which Ray will probably laugh at but who cares. She wants. She just wants.

When Ray gets home from work, Walt manages a Ray-caliber rant about how unfair it is that they can't get married in their state. Walt finally quiets, feeling worn down. “I could go for a honeymoon,” Ray says. “Somewhere with you in a little bikini and me in you.”

Walt is about to start arguing again, but Ray kisses her temple. She sounds so serious when she says, “Virginia isn't going to hold out forever. We can wait if we want. But, I wanna marry you. As soon as possible. Before the brainwashing wears off. I need you stuck with me forever and ever amen.”

“I want you to be stuck with me too.”

“Then yes, Walt Hasser, I will marry you. Best proposal ever.”

“Neither of us proposed.”

Ray shrugs. “I'm telling my momma there were rose petals and that you sang to me before getting down on one knee, soulfully crying while you asked me to spend forever with you.”

“Oh god. That would have been awful.”

“I think you mean awesome.”

“Why do I want to marry you again?” Walt asked.

“Because I'm the best at eating you out, and I'm the only one willing to put up with your dumb hick ass for seven years, or however long it's been. I'm a fucking catch.”

Walt leans in to kiss her softly, which Ray isn't having. It takes a while before Walt is able to say, “Yeah, let's get married.”


End file.
